Page 21 of Zero Confusion

“Umm. Yeah.” Miles blushed and darted his gaze to Zach. “Ready to go home?”

Zach bit his lip to keep from laughing and nodded in agreement. He was glad Joel had pointed out the elephant in the parking lot, but he wouldn’t join in the teasing. This was too important, too fragile. Pushing Miles to conclusions wouldn’t accomplish anything.

If Miles decided he wanted to kiss Zach again, he’d have to come to that decision entirely on his own.

As they strolled back to the apartment, rolling his bike down the edge of the sidewalk, Zach floated on his good mood. The sun shone brighter, the air smelled fresher, and he couldn’t keep a smile off his face. Who knew one kiss could work such wonders?

“Let’s stop by to see if there’s any new flavors for you to try,” he offered as they approached the bakery. “On Mondays, they have lavender-infused cinnamon raisin baguettes made with lentil flour.”

“That sounds…” Miles wrinkled his nose. “Interesting?”

Zach snickered, and Miles shot an accusing look. “Oh, I see. You’re making fun of me. Making fun of a small-town boy whose only crime is his love of baked goods. All he’s ever wanted was to enjoy delicious bread until a mean city slicker mocked him for his simple ambitions.”

“I’m as much of a small-town boy as you are.” Zach playfully bumped his shoulder against Miles’s bicep. “And I’m not making fun of you. I’m mocking baking culture and its need to keep coming up with increasingly ridiculous recipes.”

“We should bake bread together. I bet we could come up with some fun flavors.”

“I’m sorry to dash your hopes, but you might have noticed I don’t have an oven. Unless you find a recipe for microwave bread, we’re out of luck.”

Miles pursed his lips in thought as Zach locked his bike to a tree, then clapped his hands in triumph. “Bread machine! I can order one online.”

“Oh, perfect.” Zach rolled his eyes, pretending that Miles’s enthusiasm wasn’t endlessly contagious. “The summer of carbs. Can you figure out how to fit the entire food pyramid into a baguette?”

“Fish might be a bit of an issue.” Miles beamed at Zach, making him forget everything else. He was so beautiful in this moment, so happy and carefree, so excited about their silly plans. Zach’s chest tightened, his heart swelling with a love so intense it made the back of his eyes prickle. Platonic or romantic, kisses or hugs, he couldn’t imagine his life without Miles.

It was foolish of him to think he could ever escape.

The bakery selections were disappointingly normal, though no less delicious. Miles cradled a paper bag with a cheese-crusted focaccia the entire way home, regaling Zach with stories of his occasional trips off campus to try out different foods. By the time they’d gotten back to the apartment, Zach had come up with a long list of places he had to take Miles.

* * *

“Zee, I gotta tell you something,” Miles said after lunch. He’d been acting awkwardly since they got back, a soft pink flush creeping up his neck whenever their eyes met. At first, Zach chalked it up to the kiss, but it didn’t fit. He knew all of Miles’s expressions like the back of his hand, and this was the same look Miles had when he’d confessed to losing Zach’s cool tricolor pen in second grade.

The unmistakable look of someone who’d done something wrong.

Zach settled on the sofa and tucked his feet under him. “What did you do?” he asked with amusement, glancing around the room to see if he could spot what was broken. He hoped it wasn’t the freezer. His landlord was notoriously slow when it came to fixing things, and a steady supply of ice cream was practically a necessity in the summer.

Miles sat next to him, perching on the edge of the cushion with an awkward tension, as if ready to bolt. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, twisting the fabric as tight as it would go, then releasing and starting again. He inhaled deeply, as if getting ready to speak, but nothing came out.

“Whatever it is, it’s fine. Unless you hacked into my browser history and sent it to everyone I know, I don’t think you can top the Tyler clusterfuck,” Zach reassured him with a smile. “Just tell me.”

A strangled sound escaped Miles, almost like he’d tried to breathe in and out at the same time. His cheeks bloomed bright scarlet, and something told Zach this wouldn’t be as easy as a broken appliance. He waited as Miles opened and closed his mouth a few more times, the words finally spilling out all at once.

“I logged in using your password before I saw your text about the guest account, and you had something open on your browser, and I looked at it, and I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t stop.” He paused and swallowed hard. “I’m sorry.”

He looked at Zach with a contrite plea, his eyes begging for forgiveness. Confusion swirled Zach’s thoughts. That was it? Accidentally stumbling across someone’s porn could be embarrassing—exactly why he’d made the guest account in the first place—but it wasn’t the end of the world.

Zach was about to tell him to stop blowing it out of proportion when another thought struck.

He hadn’t watched porn in days. Not since before Miles had arrived.

Unease slithered in, tugging at the back of his mind. What else could have possibly affected Miles enough to act so strangely? What could Zach have in his browser besides a million tabs on marketing theory? What did…

“Oh no,” he exhaled. “No, no, no.” It was his turn to stare at Miles with a pleading expression. What was he even pleading for? A time machine?

Fuck, what he wouldn’t give for it to be a broken freezer right now.

“Please tell me you found some porn and felt awkward about it,” he implored. “Or that you can’t be friends with me because of how badly I misspell words in my Google searches. Miles, please.”